


Here's Lookin' at You, Kid

by imbrokelyn99



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Sex, Date at the drive-in theatre, M&Ms in popcorn, M/M, Making out in cars, Porn with Feelings, So many feelings oh my god, references to Casablanca
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 04:59:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imbrokelyn99/pseuds/imbrokelyn99
Summary: Patrick uses lines from Casablanca on David, and he doesn't figure it out until they see it at the drive-in together.





	Here's Lookin' at You, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> BIG thank yous to Claire (cromarty), Em (goingmywaydoll), and Caitlin (rosevilles) for their encouragement and for their edits. I love you guys so much! Also, love as always to my SC Discord family.

“What are you looking at?” David said, play-angry. 

Patrick smiled and shook his head at him from across the dinner table. “Just lookin’ at you.” 

David smirked. “Mmkay, well, I would appreciate it if you would look away briefly because I’m going to shovel this whole thing of pasta into my mouth in the next thirty seconds and it’s gonna get ugly. I am not in a place right now to be emotionally available for a divorce.” 

Patrick chuckled. “The list of things you could do to get me to divorce you is two items long, and that’s not one of them.” He acquiesced, choosing to smile down at his own plate instead. David mirrored his movement, stifling his own grin by staring down at the pasta before commencing the shoveling. 

David thought a lot about Patrick in general, but he especially liked running through every one of their interactions on a daily basis. At night, before succumbing to the pull of sleep, he would walk through the day he just had in his head, starting with thinking about the first kiss Patrick gave him that morning, while they were still tangled in their sheets. 

Then he’d dwell on their morning routine, how they’d dance around each other across the space of their apartment, limbs knocking into each other in the bathroom. He thought about the glances shot furtively over the rims of coffee cups, the morning newspapers unfolded, the delicate spreading of butter on toast prepared just how they liked it. 

David counted every lingering touch, every chaste kiss, every shared gaze, from store open to store close, and then keep going as they spent the night together. It was his way of comforting himself to sleep: this relationship had nested a home in the core of his heart, and he collected every shining treasure, however small, that contributed to its growth. It was the biggest thing—the only thing, he’d dare say—that brought peace to his mind when it was time to sleep.

This private ritual of his was why he caught on quickly to the fact that “Lookin’ at you” was Patrick’s standard response whenever David asked about a lingering stare. David would catch Patrick, as he just had, staring at him over dinner, or from across the store, or after sex, and Patrick’s eyes would be filled with such warmth and tenderness that David couldn’t help himself but ask why it was there. 

“Can I help you?” he’d ask playfully, or “You okay?”, or, sometimes, a simple “Yes?” would suffice. And always, Patrick’s response would be some variation of that phrase—”Lookin’ at you,” as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if it were the only thing he would rather do right now or next week or for the next thousand years. 

David did not understand the reference until, during one of their Friday night movie dates, Patrick took him to a local screening of _Casablanca_. 

“How have you never seen _Casablanca_? I thought you were a connoisseur of romance films,” Patrick said as David buckled himself into the passenger seat. The movie was being screened at a local drive-in theatre, which was a generous label for what was essentially a projector from 2003 lighting up a giant sheet tied up between two perfectly-spaced pine trees in an open field and an acne-ridden teenager from a neighboring town collecting $5 per car for admission. A crudely-painted sign was nailed to one of the trees telling the audience which AM station to tune their car radios to to hear the movie’s audio.

“My dad threw a _Casablanca_ -themed party for my mom’s 40th birthday, and frankly, that circus put me off watching the movie entirely. So. I didn’t want any part of that,” David explained. He launched into a detailed description of the event and how the camels stunk up the event space and no one arrived dressed in-theme, anyway, as they drove to the field on the outskirts of town. Patrick listened intently, his amusement written all over his face, and asked his questions, curious, as always, about the absurd and other-worldly life David and his family lived before they arrived here.

“How did Mr. Rose even _get_ the permits he’d need to house camels?”

“Apparently, when you have a whole team dedicated to party-planning, things like _camels_ are easy to handle, but god save them if they wanted to find a caterer who could make authentic French-Moroccan food,” David replied simply and was rewarded with a snicker.

Patrick took care of the modest cover charge when they arrived and maneuvered the car into a decent spot. The field was, to David’s surprise, quite packed with cars, but really, what else was there to do in small towns besides go to the movies and continue trudging along through life’s daily mundanities? Luckily, the townspeople weren’t feeling quite neighborly enough to greet them.

“Wanna grab the snacks from the backseat?” Patrick asked. David paused.

“Are they gonna play previews?” he asked.

“Probably not. Why, is it _incorrect_ to snack while waiting for a movie to start?” Patrick shot back with a wry smile.

David shot him a withering look. “No, I just didn’t wanna burn through the popcorn before the movie even started.”

Patrick laughed and reached behind David’s seat, where he’d stuffed a Rose Apothecary tote full of their favorite movie snacks. “I packed more than enough for the movie. I know you a little better than that.” 

David offered him a fond smile and he drank it up for a moment before hoisting the tote up and setting it on the armrest between them. David predictably tore straight into the bag of Twizzlers while Patrick took the bag of M&Ms and one of the bags of homemade popcorn. He opened them both and shook the M&Ms into the popcorn before shaking the bag. Patrick looked up when he heard the scandalized little gasp that escaped David’s mouth.

“What are you _doing?_ ” David asked, pulling his licorice closer to his chest protectively.

“Sweet and salty. It’s really good!” Patrick said, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn and an M&M and shoving them into his mouth all at once. David let out another aggrieved noise.

“Absolutely not.”

Patrick chuckled and grabbed another small handful. “Try it,” he said, before moving to feed David. David pushed his head back against the window, instinctively dodging the abomination that was his husband’s movie snack creation. Patrick edged closer, leaning around the bag of food to get his handful of popcorn and candy closer to David’s face. “Come on, David.” 

David hesitated and relaxed a bit before he tentatively opened his mouth to let Patrick feed him.  
Patrick dropped a few pieces of chocolate and popcorn onto David’s tongue. David chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then wrinkled his nose before swallowing dramatically. Patrick smiled and raised his eyebrows at his husband, waiting for a reaction.

“That...actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. But I don’t know how you can eat a whole bag of that,” David said. Patrick chuckled.

“Not a fan of sweet and salty together, huh?” 

David made a face. “Popcorn is supposed to be salty and buttery, Patrick! That’s what it was made for!” 

“Remind me to never order a Hawaiian pizza in front of you.”

“Oh my god. I’m breaking up with you.”

Patrick shot him a kicked puppy look, but something playful danced behind his eyes. “Are you?” 

David paused, then a smile crept across his face. “No...but you’re on thin ice.” 

The field lit up then as the opening credits rolled. Patrick tuned the car radio to the right station, and the booming orchestral arrangement that accompanied the credits blared through the car speakers. David, predictably, talked while the screen cycled through the names of every cast and crew member and producer involved in making the film, so much so that he missed the first couple of minutes of the actual movie. David rattled on about how much better it is that movies these days save the credits for the end and don’t force audiences to sit through them at the beginning, and Patrick, painfully aware of how much of the beginning of the movie they were missing, leaned over to silence David with his mouth. He broke the kiss quickly but stayed in David’s space to whisper, “David? Watch the movie.” 

David tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to hide how that one move made him feel like fireworks were exploding on his skin, and his mouth twisted with the effort of it. Patrick stifled his own grin at that, secretly thrilled that that was all it took to make David go all soft-boned.

When Sam, the pianist in the film, started playing “As Time Goes By,” David let out an excited little gasp in spite of himself. Patrick looked over at him curiously. “This song was in _Sleepless in Seattle!_ ” David enthused, “and so was the globe thing in the beginning! I didn’t know that was a reference!” 

Patrick laughed, grabbing David’s hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Of _course_ David had seen a rom-com from 1993 with Meg Ryan in it but not the seminal film that had, in part, inspired it. 

Finally, as the scenes of Rick and Ilsa’s life in Paris splashed across the illuminated white sheet and the famous line, “Here’s lookin’ at you, kid,” left Humphrey Bogart’s lips, David squeezed Patrick’s hand, which had never left his, and let out a soft “Oh.” 

Patrick looked over in askance, his thumb mindlessly rubbing circles into the skin of David’s hand. David was looking at him with the warmest, fondest expression. “This is where that line is from?” David asked. 

“What line?” Patrick replied, his thumb continuing in its soothing movements. He did know what David was referring to, but he didn’t think David would have caught on so quickly. David let out a frustrated huff.

“Whenever I catch you staring and I ask you what you’re doing, you’re always just like, ‘Oh, lookin’ at you.’ Is this where you got it?” David said. 

Patrick offered him a grin, so big and bright it was like looking straight at the sun. “I may have nicked a line from this movie, yeah,” he replied shyly. 

Patrick didn’t know how David could manipulate his features the way he could, but he looked impossibly softer and more touched than he had a second ago. David cupped Patrick’s jaw and leaned in, bringing him in for a lingering kiss that shot Patrick back to that first night, that first birthday together, and Patrick was so overwhelmed with affection that he found himself struggling to breathe. It was things like this that reminded him why they got married in the first place. 

They could bicker over chores at the store, or Patrick could lose his patience dealing with David when he was being particularly difficult, and while all of that only served to make their life together more colourful, Patrick lived for the moments when David showed him how much he loved him. How much he loved all the little things Patrick did for him, like pack extra snacks for a movie, or slip some cheesy dialogue into everyday interactions. And when they had moments like this, where they would stare at each other, David would sometimes look at him like he’d never seen the sky before and suddenly it was manifesting before him, and Patrick would know, without David having to tell him, how deeply loved he was, too. 

“I love you,” Patrick whispered into David’s mouth, overcome. David deepened the kiss in response, his fingers gliding into Patrick’s hair and pulling him ever closer. They struggled over the gearshift and the armrest, breaths coming hot and shallow, as they slipped their tongues into each other’s mouths. 

“Seems you liked the taste of that M&M popcorn more than you let on,” Patrick said between kisses. 

“Tastes better in your mouth than in mine,” David said nonchalantly, but the wicked glint in his eyes gave him away.

“ _Jesus Christ,_ ” Patrick groaned, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt. David tried inelegantly to swing a leg over so he’d end up in Patrick’s lap, and he landed with a huff, but he toppled the food bag over in the process, spilling chocolate bars and popcorn everywhere.

“Fuck,” David whispered, pressing their foreheads together. Patrick chuckled and gave him a kiss, and another, and another. 

“As much as I want to do this with you right now, the idea of Roland and Jocelyn possibly being within a fifty-foot radius is really killing my buzz, anyway,” Patrick said finally. David sighed and nodded. He pressed another kiss to Patrick’s mouth before crawling back over to the passenger’s seat. 

David brushed the popcorn off the seat, murmuring something about needing to get the car cleaned anyway, and finally settled in. His hand reached out almost instinctively to find Patrick’s, and they enjoyed what was left of the movie in comfortable silence. 

When they finally made it through the door to their house twenty minutes later, sugar-high and so in love, they could hardly keep their hands to themselves. David enveloped Patrick in his embrace and leaned back against the door before nipping at his husband’s bottom lip.

“Finish what we started at the drive-in?” he asked breathily before kissing Patrick soundly, hardly waiting for a reply. He felt Patrick nod against his mouth and David spun them around to pull him backwards towards their bedroom. Patrick’s hands slid up under David’s sweater and pulled it off gingerly before tossing it onto the back of a chair and stepping in closer to his husband to keep kissing him. David made quick work of unbuttoning Patrick’s top and slid it off his shoulders, grateful that he’d opted not to wear a shirt under it. 

They fell back into the bed, David’s head cradled by the white down pillows, and Patrick straddled him, sitting up on his haunches against David’s thighs. Patrick let out a slow breath, running both hands down David’s torso reverently. His gaze swept up to meet David’s and, eyes shining, Patrick murmured, “Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.” 

David laughed and cupped the back of his husband’s neck, dragging Patrick up so he could kiss him. Patrick groaned as David slipped his tongue into his mouth and he reached down to palm his husband through his jeans. David bucked beneath him and immediately got to work undoing Patrick’s pants. They broke apart for one painful second so Patrick could kick himself out of his jeans and help David out of his, and then they were flush against each other, mouths crashing together, skin gliding over skin. 

“I want you so badly,” David whispered as Patrick kissed across his jaw and down his chest.

“You have me,” Patrick whispered back before sucking a mark onto David’s hip, proving his words. Something set alight in him when David let a shudder escape him, and Patrick slid his hand up David’s thigh before stroking his husband slowly. 

“That feels so good,” David sighed, pushing his head back into the pillows. “I want you inside me, Patrick.” 

“Yes, yes, god, yes,” Patrick said, smoothing a thumb over the bruise he left on David’s skin and moving towards the nightstand to grab the bottle of lube. He coated his fingers in the slick liquid and, in one fell swoop, pushed a finger into David as he took him in his mouth. 

“Holy _fuck_ ,” David groaned, slipping his fingers into Patrick’s hair. Patrick was starting to feel the pleasant ache in his jaw that came with sucking David, so he added another finger in and continued pumping them in and out of him. 

Hearing David’s sighs, feeling his fingers in his hair, made Patrick feel close to coming apart. He rutted against the sheets for relief as he took David as deep into his mouth and groaned around him. David’s fingers tightened around the waves of Patrick’s hair, which he’d taken to keeping longer than he used to since David loved how it looked long. Patrick added another finger in response and David fucked himself back into Patrick’s hands.

“Please, Patrick, _god_ ,” David whimpered. Patrick acquiesced and coated himself with lube. He leaned over David, arm tense over the bed as he pushed in. David squeezed his bicep as he slipped further and further in, letting out a slow, shuddery breath when Patrick had finally buried himself in deep. 

“I love you,” Patrick whispered, capturing David’s lips in a kiss. He pumped in and out, agonizingly slowly, with one hand stroking David to match his pace, and the other carrying Patrick’s weight. 

“I love you, Patrick, please, faster,” David said against Patrick’s mouth. His husband picked up the pace, pounding into him double-time. He leaned down and started sucking another bruise onto David’s collarbone as David’s groans began to slip out high and reedy. 

“God, Patrick, I love you, I can’t live without you,” David sighed, his hands running up Patrick’s back. His husband’s heart stuttered at that, and he felt a deep, deep love bloom from his chest out, warming him all over. He loved it when David talked during sex, and especially loved when he could _hear_ the love pouring out of him. David’s words spilled easily from his lips, like they tumbled out just as effortlessly now as they would have if they were spoken over breakfast. Like David had kept them in his heart but always meant to free them. 

“You’re never gonna have to,” Patrick said softly in response, kissing David with fervour. David deepened the kiss, revelling in the taste of his sweat on Patrick’s tongue. Patrick moved faster and squeezed the base of David’s cock with every stroke, dedicated to piquing his husband’s orgasm. 

David came with a gasp, and the tightening of his ass around Patrick’s cock sent Patrick over the edge along with him. They whispered each other’s names reverently as they came down, and their breaths mingled as they kissed lazily.

“We have to clean up,” Patrick mumbled. David groaned, holding him tighter and ignoring the unpleasant stickiness of come and sweat between them. Patrick laughed and kissed David on the cheek before disentangling himself and padding off to the bathroom. He returned with a warm, wet cloth and wiped himself and David down with it before tossing it into the hamper. David slipped under the covers and, when Patrick appeared at the edge of the bed, David pulled his husband in with him. Patrick settled himself comfortably against David’s side, resting his head on David’s chest and snuggling into the arm that had wrapped around him. 

“Patrick?” David whispered.

“Hmmm?” Patrick responded, eyes closing.

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship,” David said. Patrick barked out a laugh and grabbed a stray pillow to hit David with. David giggled under the attack of cotton and down. They wrestled among the sheets, making a mess of the bed, before Patrick gave up and starfished, boneless, against the pillows. 

“David?” Patrick murmured.

“Mhmm?”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [noahnicholasreid](http://noahnicholasreid.tumblr.com) on Tumblr if you wanna give me a shout! <3


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